


Let’s Fall In Love For The Night

by Dark_Diamonds



Category: Bleach
Genre: Aizen Is A Shitty Dad, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, King Isshin, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Prince Grimmjow, Prince Ichigo, Rangiku is underrated, You CAN Marry A Man You Just Met, good brother ichigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25669954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Diamonds/pseuds/Dark_Diamonds
Summary: Grimmjow has to marry a princess from a neighboring kingdom against his will, but after becoming frustrated at the engagement party he takes a walk and meets a mischievous sailor. No one else has ever treated Grimmjow the way this man does, unfortunately they only have one night before they have to face the reality that they can never be together.To make matters worse nobody will shut up about how perfect the princess’ brother is.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 43
Kudos: 265





	Let’s Fall In Love For The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Is this a cliche? Maybe. Little Romeo and Juliet, little Love Story, little musical inspiration, voila.   
> Here’s a link to a short playlist of songs that helped inspire this  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLP3aMph7k_JZszVXhsSDACpiTeY8NJYFE&feature=share

“No! I’ve already told you a hundred, a THOUSAND times! No!” The Prince pounded his fist on the table, the king and his advisors unamused by the display.

“And we have told you just as many times that you can’t keep putting this off. It is your duty to your kingdom to secure positive relations with the neighboring kingdoms, and that means marriage.” Father’s advisor Gin grinned.

“This is a joke, I’m not marrying some brat just because her daddy has an army.” He stood from the table, ready to end the conversation altogether. His father would not let it go so easily.

“You’ve said the same of every potential match we’ve presented. You refused Princess Orihime despite her kingdom being filled with medical resources and scholars, you refused Queen Neliel and her kingdom of tradesmen, you even turned down Princess Lilynette and all her riches. Until now your brothers have been able to cover you, taking your place when you threw fits, but no more. You are out of brothers to force your responsibility onto, Grimmjow.” The king spoke, cold eyes pinning his son in place.

“I-“ he started, hoping to defend himself.

“Your highness,” Tousen cut him off, calm and collected as ever.  
“You could ask for no better match than this, and you are about to lose this window of opportunity. King Isshin has enough firepower to level anyone that opposes him and allies in every corner of the map, but he is peaceful if not charitable, for now. His daughters have just come of age and will be highly sought out by other nobles. However, the king’s eldest son will claim the throne should he marry, so we must act before he does. You must not ruin this by spurning yet another potential wife, the king has already agreed to it.” 

“That aside,” the king drank from his cup, hiding the passive-aggressive smirk his sons knew well.  
“Perhaps it was meant to happen this way, your temper may have played in your favor, waiting for the day Isshin’s daughters were able to marry. It would be only fitting that you become king of your own homeland, would it not?” 

Grimmjow’s hands clenched the back of his chair. He and all his brothers had been from other lands, orphans rescued by the king of a small but steadily growing territory and raised in the ways of high society. The prince remembered very little of his home country of Kuros, but he remembered blood. A war right at the front door that had left him and many like him orphaned and injured. He remembered being hungry and scared. There were no good memories of Kuros for the prince. The only thing he could recall that didn’t cause him pain was a garden; the flowers in Kuros didn’t grow anywhere else.

“I...”

“Go and pack, there will be a ball in three days to celebrate the princess’ birthday. You will meet them, take your pick, and a wedding will be planned.”

“But-“

“We are done here.” His tone was final, and there was no arguing when he took on that tone. 

“Yes, father.” He grit his teeth and left the room.

—————————————-

“Are you crazy?!” Karin yelled across the table, her sister beside her jumping from the volume and nearly dropping the spoon of porridge in her dainty hand.  
“When you were planning this whole thing I thought we were just having a birthday, not GETTING ENGAGED!”

“Well, technically speaking, only one of you is going to be engaged...” their father muttered into his breakfast, too guilty to look his girls in the eye.

“We haven’t even met the guy! Why would you agree to this?!”

“Because Aizen is very compelling, and a merger would be mutually beneficial.”

“And you didn’t think to ask us if we would agree to it?” Karin was fuming.

“I’m sorry, really, I am, but this is just... how things are done. Turning down an offer like this would be an insult at best, and these aren’t the type of people I want to insult.”

“But marrying off your daughter to them is fine?” 

“I’m not worried if that’s what you mean, even if he has a one-track mind his sons have been raised to be quite chivalrous, and Grimmjow happens to be from Kuros himself.”

“I don’t care where he’s from, we’ve never met him.” 

“That’s what the party is for!” He replied happily. 

“Not helping, dad,” Yuzu chimed in.   
“If there’s no way around it, why don’t we just... move on. Talk about something else.”

“Like what, Yuzu? What color the flowers will be at your arranged wedding?”

“I’m not gonna marry-“ she caught herself at Karin’s satisfied look.  
“A-anyway... Ichigo should be returning in a few days, right? His last letter said he would be home after our birthday with gifts from abroad.”

“Yes, his ship is due to arrive five days from now.”

“And does Ichigo know that you’re giving us away?”

“Karin!” Yuzu scolded.

“I... sent a letter. He should have received it at his last port.” The king was mumbling again, they all knew his son would not be happy with the situation.

“He’s going to start a mutiny.” Karin laughed.

———————————

“I’m going to kill him!” Ichigo shouted as the ship crew bustled around him.

“I’m sure he means well.” His officer offered.

“Of course he means well, Chad, but that idiot should have stopped to THINK. Karin and Yuzu aren’t interested in matters of the court or marriage, much less to someone they haven’t met. You’d think for how much he smothers them he wouldn’t dream of something like this.” He shook the crumpled letter in his fist. The second he’d read it he had the crew moving full steam ahead back to Kuros.

“Uncanny how alike you are.”

“Meaning?” Ichigo scowled.

“None of you care for the politics, despite your position. If I may speak freely?”

“Of course you may,” Ichigo was shocked that Chad would even feel the need to ask, they’d been friends too many years to see the man as a subordinate. 

“None of you behave as royalty is expected to, and while you gain the favor of your subjects, other nobility might see you as improper. Your sister’s marriage is a proper tradition, and as much as the rest of us may disagree with it, there isn’t much choice. It’s all in the hands of the King. And I hate to say this, but you of all people should know the possible ramifications of refusing this.”

Ichigo looked back at the paper in hand; he knew Chad was right, but he wasn’t happy about it.

“I get it, Aizen is ‘proper’ and ‘respectable’ but we don’t owe him anything, and he doesn’t owe us anything. He hasn’t spoken to my family in well over a decade, so why not just stay away and be civil?”

“You’re thinking like an older brother, not a prince. Kuros is a military stronghold with many allies, he wants to ensure your support.” 

“This is why I hate royal stuff.” He groaned.  
“Renji!”

“Boss?” A red-haired sailor peered down from the upper deck.

“When will we reach Kuros?”

“Three days, max.”

“Perfect.”

—————————

Grimmjow scowled out the open window as the carriage sped down a rocky country road. The sun had just begun to set and he could make out the shapes of a city he’d long since forgotten in the distance. He had been crammed into stiff beige trousers, brand new black leather riding boots, a blousy shirt with far too many ruffles, and his damned formal jacket. The jacket was heavy as all hell, bone white with too-long tails and thick cuffs, golden threads and surplus embellishments further weighed it down, god did he hate the thing. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Aizen cut through his thoughts.

“What?” 

“Kuros.”

“Yeah. Beautiful.” He watched the scenery pass by without paying any real attention to it. Trees, buildings, blurry faces, it was just another place he told himself. Truthfully he didn’t want to look too close, anxious that he could see something that triggered more blocked memories to unveil themselves to him. 

The sky had just started to darken when they approached the castle gates, many other carriages lined up in front of and behind them. 

“Remember, be charming.”

“Charming. Right.”

“Be attentive.”

“Mhm.”

“This is your future wife we’re talking about, and the daughter of a warlord, I’d suggest you make life easier for yourself and drop that attitude of yours.”

“Uh-huh, will do.” His father frowned as he heard the grinding of teeth, a nasty habit he’d tried many a time to break the prince of since he was a boy. He roughly grabbed his jaw and forced them to look each other in the eye.

“Stop. That. It is impolite.” He forced the blue-haired man away as he smoothed his expression.  
“Lucky for us you’re already promised.” He lowered his voice as a footman came to open the carriage doors, ushering them up the grand front steps.   
“Don’t make a fool of us, for just one once try to be more like your brothers.”

“You’re the one that wanted this.” He caught himself before he could bite down again. Being compared to the other princes never failed to set off his temper.

The castle was stunning, in the way that every royal dwelling was, but unlike some of the others Grimmjow had seen it held a certain charm. Where most had just portraits of kings past and tapestries of proud moments in their history, here there were well-maintained plants and paintings of the countryside that lent warmth to the palace. As they were guided through winding halls the prince was more focused on the decor than whatever it was the man walking with them was saying, no doubt bragging about the royal family’s lineage and conquests.

As much as he hated the stuffy clothes and politics that went into a ball, Grimmjow always loved this part, being announced. Those wonderful seconds when the entire room would be focused on him almost made up for all the forced politeness and obligation to dance. As he descended the stairs to enter the enormity of the ballroom every eye was on him and he reveled in the attention, and yet, every time it began to feel more and more hollow. Over the years it became apparent that all the praise and validation he received was for his crown, not who he was. He wanted to be looked at as though he were something special because of something he’d actually done, not his power and wealth.

“Pathetic.” He snapped back from his thoughts to see his father joining his side as he scrutinized the ballroom.  
“Allowing the common to such an occasion, Isshin is charitable as ever.” He sneered as if he had been talking about the king shoveling pig shit, not throwing a party. The prince looked around and noticed how many in attendance seemed underdressed in the room of ridiculous frivolous gowns and ostentatious coats.

“Speak of the fool.”

Grimmjow looked in the direction Aizen was glowering and saw a tall dark-haired man heartily laughing across the room, clapping another well-dressed man on the back. He didn’t wear a gaudy get-up like Aizen and his son, instead he was adorned in simple gray and white formal wear, a few metals pinned to the chest and a couple rings on his fingers. The man didn’t even wear his crown.

Aizen walked through the crowd without a care as to whom he passed, allowing the sea of faces to part for him.

“Isshin, old friend.” The dark-haired king sobered a bit but kept a smile, obviously trying to remain civil but not truly happy to see the guests.

“Ah, Aizen. It’s been quite a while, I’m glad to see you’re in good health.”

“And you. This is my son, Grimmjow.” He ushered the young man forward roughly.

“Grimmjow, wonderful to meet you, son. How have you taken to Kuros?”

“It’s beautiful.” He replied robotically, a response he’d given to every king that inquired of their kingdom.

“Speaking of beautiful, Isshin, where are your lovely daughters? I’m sure they are eager to get acquainted.”

“Oh, they’re... excited. They will be down shortly.” His smile became tight then.

Grimmjow hovered by the kings as they feigned small talk, they obviously did not enjoy each other’s company. He wasn’t oblivious to the women making eyes at him either, trying to flirt with their eyes without approaching him when they were beneath his class. They’d be waiting all night, he wasn’t asking anyone to dance. No one but the two he was being forced to. He’d dance with the twins, pick one, and be done with the night. He’d be engaged. The thought made his stomach churn, he wanted to gag.

“Introducing-!” The valet at the top of the steps announced over the crowd, silencing the commotion of the party and putting a halt to the dancing.  
“Their highnesses, princess Yuzu and Princess Karin!” He ducked away, two young women taking his place front and center. One smiled wide with flaxen hair and a golden dress, a flowery pattern embroidered into the wide hoop skirt and billowing sleeves. The other had dark hair like their father, her gown took up much less space and lacked the decorum of embroidery, just layers of indigo fabric slung over hoop skirts and tight sleeves falling off her shoulders. Her smile looked just as fake as her father’s did in the previous moments.  
The girls descended the stairs slowly, hand-in-hand to stay steady. 

“Go introduce yourself,” Aizen hissed into Grimmjow’s ear as the girls cleared the last step to greet their guests. He held in the groan he wanted to reply with and proceeded toward the two young women. When he got close they looked him up and down and he could see a sour look on the dark-haired one, the other whispering something to her.

“You must be Prince Grimmjow,” the more cheerful one greeted.

“I am, and you would be?” He bowed, as was polite, but refused to kiss anyone’s hand. 

“I’m Yuzu,” The smiley one curtsied, layers of golden fabric puddling.

“Karin,” the other barely dipped then held her hand out.  
“Let’s get this over with.” He took it and they walked through the crowd toward the dance floor. 

Up close he could really see the youth in Karin’s features, the top of her head was level with his shoulder and despite her continued frowning her face barely creased or wrinkled. He took a chance to ask her a question he already knew the answer to.

“So you’re against this whole thing, right?” He didn’t look at her as they danced, looking out into the room as they turned and swayed.

“Obviously.”

“Your sister too?”

“Very. She’s just too nice to say no.”

“For the record, I’ve been dead set against this, so don’t take it out on me.” 

“Not like I can take it out on anyone else, already gave dad hell for it and nothing changed.”

“Well aren’t you sweet.”

“You’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”

“You?”

“I’m not forcing this onto Yuzu, my mind is made up about that.”

“That’s very selfless of you.” He ground his teeth at the idea of being treated like some punishment for the princess.

“Someone has to look out for her, Dad’s got a whole kingdom to worry about, and Ichigo does enough for us as is, we can’t keep asking for his help like we’re still children.”

“Your brother?” Karin looked him in the eye for the first time that night.

“Yeah. I know if he had his way we wouldn’t be in this situation.” She scowled and looked back at the medals on Grimmjow’s chest. They didn’t speak after that, letting the music play as they danced the same steps they’d both been forced to learn for parties like this. When the song ended the crowd clapped their appreciation before the next began, a fast song that had the king eagerly tapping his toes along. Grimmjow parted from Karin, Yuzu already standing by for her turn. They bowed and the next dance began.

“So your sister-“

“I’m going to marry you.” The girl interrupted. She looked determined, holding eye contact as they jumped through the steps of this particular dance.

“You sure about that?”

“I am. Karin doesn’t want a political marriage. It’s our duty as princesses to do what’s best for our country, and my duty as her sister to do what’s best for Karin. So I’ll do it, I’ll marry you.” 

“If that is what you want.” He ground his teeth again, his jaw was starting to hurt but he couldn’t help it, no matter how many slaps and reprimands he got for it the habit always came back. 

“It’s not, but if it has to be done... “

He nearly bit his tongue when his gnashing teeth slid off each other, he could see the disgust on her face, she could clearly hear it.

“What I would have wanted was to meet someone that understood me, that loved me the way I read about in fairytales, someone Ichigo would have approved of.”

“So he won’t approve of me?”

“He’ll be horrified to know I’m engaged to someone I had no choice in. Even more so if I’m unhappy, so I’ll smile and be your loving wife, he’ll give his blessing if I say I’m happy, but I won’t say anything about how I truly feel about it.” But she had. She was bold enough to say she detested the engagement, and obviously her sister could tell, likely her father too. The song ended and they parted with fake smiles, Grimmjow needed a drink.

The smell of Kuros wine tickled a memory in the back of his consciousness, something he pushed back, not wanting to remember whatever he had blocked out from before he’d become a prince. He nursed on his glass, stood away from the dense gathering of party guests against a wall of tapestries he didn’t care enough about to look at. He watched people move about, dancing, laughing, enjoying each other and the festivity of it all, and he couldn’t relate to it. Every ball he’d been to prior had been solemn and dreary with the air of propriety and political motive, as was typical of anything involving Aizen. Here, though, every one looked so free, so happy, so loving and in love, he felt like an outlier.

The distance wasn’t enough to keep away the whispers though. ‘Poor girls,’ they said. ‘Such a shame,’ they asserted. He blocked them out as best he could and continued to focus on his wine.

“If it isn’t the man of the hour,” an older gentleman sauntered up to occupy the space at his side, he was blonde and grey-eyed with body language that projected just how relaxed he was. He was dressed like a common man, thin coat hanging over his shoulders with just the faintest twinkle catching the eye. Grimmjow angled his head to better see what it was reflecting the light and let out a surprised laugh when he saw the green and white ribbons and medallions pinned haphazardly to the man’s clothing.

“You’re a general?”

“Was, now I’m just a guest at a party.” The man drank from his own cup and watched the rest of the room around them.  
“You know there are some beautiful women across the room hoping you ask them to dance.”

“I am already betrothed.”

“Im not saying to woo them, young man like you should be out there enjoying the night. Isshin throws one hell of a ball.” He held up his glass as if to toast to the sentiment. Grimmjow was thrown by how informal the man was.

“I am a prince, I can’t be mingling with anyone and making a fool of us.”

“Us?” 

“Myself. I came to meet the princesses, that is all.”

“Well you’ve met them, and the night has just begun, why not mingle, oh no sorry, why not associate with the people? Is that better?” It wasn’t. Mingling, associating, familiarizing, any interaction with the common would surely earn the scorn of his father. Speaking with the former general was even a stretch, sure to result in some cross words. 

“We are associating aren’t we? What do I call you?”

“I just go by Kisuke these days, your highness.” The man laughed under his breath.  
“But if what you are looking for is a reason to justify conversing with me, ‘General Urahara, trusted advisor to King Isshin of Kuros‘ was a pretty little title. Even if I prefer the quiet life these days.”

“Well, Kisuke, as advisor to the King you must have known the royal family well.”

“I do to this day. Fine people.”

“The princesses are fighting for who has the misfortune of becoming my wife, and they’re stubborn.” He said in hushed tones, not daring to be overheard speaking ill of the royals in their own castle. 

“The whole family is.” Kisuke said proudly, not caring at all who heard.   
“Isshin, Karin, Yuzu, and oh don’t get me started on Ichigo, all of them are stubborn as can be.”

“I’ve heard the prince talked about more than once tonight, but I haven’t been introduced to him yet.”

“You won’t meet him tonight, he’s overseas on business. Diplomacy and trade and blah blah blah.” He tipped the last of his wine back and looked at the glass in disappointment.

“Yuzu says she wanted his blessing to get married or something like that.”

“You wouldn’t get it.” Grimmjow felt his temper flare and had to remind himself that he was in a very public, very important setting and not to start an all out fight with this man. He felt his jaw protest before he could even start grating his teeth against each other and schooled himself back into nonchalance. 

“That so?”

“I don’t think anyone would. I’ve known that boy since he was small, and he’s grown into a good man, and a wonderful prince, but he puts being a brother first. If he was here right now he’d probably make a huge scene and call off the whole thing himself the second his sisters gave him their sad little eyes.”

“I don’t know if that would be brave or incredibly stupid of him.” He jolted at realizing just how openly he was speaking.

“Most definitely both. He has a habit of getting himself into trouble trying to do the right thing and the people love him for it, but the nobility think he’s an impulsive hothead.”

“You have a lot to say on the matter. I’m sure your prince wouldn’t appreciate you sharing the details of his life.”

“I’m doing so for your benefit.”

“How does that benefit me?”

“Well now you know he’s a stubborn hothead that would do anything for his sisters. One of which you will be marrying. What I hadn’t told you yet is that he’s an expert swordsman and a combatant that could put any soldier to shame. He was the one to behead Yhwach the Merciless, now all along the eastern shore our allies know him as ‘Ichigo The Savior’ and revere him as a hero. You, my friend, will marry one of his sisters. That he’d do ANYTHING for.” 

“I’ve never heard that story.”

“He’s humble.”

“Yeah, well thanks for that. I’m going to get another drink.” He walked off, not caring much for the new information. He knew Kuros had intervened on the genocidal reign of Yhwach, but he’d never heard of the crown prince being involved so directly. All propaganda to boost the royal family’s standing with their allies for sure. Even if the prince was a good swordsman he would be no match for Grimmjow. One pissed off brother was no threat to him.

Kuros wine really was something else, the sweetness was addictive, the tart aftertaste just enough to stop it from being cloying and cut the richness. He’d had a few glasses and actively avoided conversation with the other guests, but every time he would move he saw the same woman out of the corner of his eye. She was busty with an extravagant pink gown and fan, strawberry blonde hair piled high with copious pins and jewels. Each time he relocated she was in his proximity, getting closer each time, until he became truly annoyed by her hovering.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He said to the woman, purposely not smiling or looking at her in any way she could misconstrue as interest.

“No, we haven’t had the pleasure. Duchess Rangiku Matsumoto. Charmed.” She held her hand out, Grimmjow bowed and ignored it.  
“Right, uh, I’ve noticed that you haven’t really been on the dance floor much tonight, and I think that is quite a shame.” She wouldn’t ask him, it would be improper, so she would likely hint around until she got too frustrated and left him to his own.

“It doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Oh.” She seemed to think this over for several minutes, remaining beside him, chewing her lip behind her fan.  
“How about a drink?”

“Had my fill.”

“Oh.” She returned to her thoughts.

Grimmjow watched the dance floor move in flurries of movement, the dancers moving about randomly, the current jig playing unchoreographed by the attendants. Just music and movement and smiles, no order. What was it like to feel that free? He could see the king, smile wide and goofy as he spun around with his daughters. Karin looked embarrassed, but he could tell by how she held on just as tight as he did that she really loved it. The two girls left a space between them, as if someone else usually stood there for their messy frolicking.

“Shame the prince couldn’t be here.” He instantly turned toward Matsumoto shocked that she seemed to know just what he was thinking of. She smiled back at his confused face.  
“It really is a shame, I was so disappointed to hear he wouldn’t be home in time for the ball. I was hoping to dance with him again.”

“Do you often dance together?” 

“Well... not often. Of course he’s always apologetic when he can’t, but there are so many people fighting tooth and nail for a turn that I consider myself lucky to have had my go around the dance floor. We do have wonderful conversations though.”

“With so many dance partners you’d think he would have wed by now.”

“Prince Ichigo? He’s in no hurry.” She smiled at him as he watched the royal family laugh and make fools of themselves before their subjects.

“You don’t sound upset about that.”

“Of course not, he’s a man with many responsibilities and if he wishes to pursue other interests than a wife and heir then what’s the harm when his duties have been met? As a prince yourself you must understand.”

“I don’t get the choice to wait like he does.”

“He doesn’t have much of a choice either. Between you and me...” she leaned closer, expanding her fan to give herself cover to gossip.  
“The only reason he isn’t in your shoes right now is because there are few royals with enough gall to ask the hand of someone with his social standing. He’s born for greatness, despite what the more uptight members of court say. I’ve seen princess after princess, queen after countess and many a duchess bat their eyelashes and wear their best dress hoping for his attention, but few are up to par.”

“Right, cause he’s ‘The Savior’ and all that?” He was starting to get sick of just how much better than everyone else this guy was.

“Not just that!” She whispered, grin growing.  
“Rumor has it he saved Rukia Kuchiki from execution.”

“The one accused of treason?”

“FALSELY accused. Thank the heavens he was there, or else they would have discovered too late the poor girl was innocent.”

“Yeah, shame he’s not here. Would love to have met the man before all this.” He motioned to the room. He did wish the man was here, so he could see what the bastard looked like and know who it was that made him feel so insignificant. All night, all anyone wanted to talk about was how amazing the prince of Kuros was and how he would never approve of Grimmjow. How he was BETTER than Grimmjow. He needed another drink. 

As he crossed the floor, a bit too hastily, he nudged someone’s arm too quickly and ended up with a giant blood red stain across the right side of his coat. He froze as the woman apologized profusely, the people around them stunned quiet as she begged his pardon on her knees. She was a commoner, her dress barely passing for formal, the hems messy from too many mendings and the embroidery and beadwork sloppy from inexperienced hands. 

He was used to this, people begging and treating him like he was the one deciding their fate, treating him like an untouchable royal. It didn’t feel the same here, in a room that had previously been so warm, he was the reason everything ground to a halt. Isshin and his kin shared the warmth of the party, they encouraged it, Grimmjow was a solitary, cold presence amongst the merriment. No one wanted him there. As he saw all the horrified faces, he knew what was expected of him, expected of a prince. Was he angry? Yes. Angry enough to strike a woman for his own accident? No.

“Hey, stop.” He spoke quietly to the woman, whom still apologized and begged his forgiveness. The music never stopped but her cries were so loud.  
“Stop that.” He reached down to get a hold on her arms, lifting just enough for her to get the message to stand. The terror was written clearly across her face, fearing the repercussions of ruining royal garments. Worse yet, ruining the perfect white coat of a son of Aizen with red wine. 

“Hey, stop crying. It was my fault. I spilled the drink.” He began pulling off the coat, draping it over his arm where the wine had begun to soak through to the sleeve of his shirt. The woman wiped her eyes but kept her head bowed.  
“I apologize for my carelessness.” He looked around at the faces staring at the scene, nodded, and left the room. He needed air.

Grimmjow wandered the halls aimlessly, trying to get a hold of himself, waiting out the time when he could leave. No doubt he’d be reprimanded harshly for making a scene, no matter how unintentional it was. He wanted to run, to scream, he wanted to hit something. Most days felt like this, just trying to keep a leash on the rage that bubbled just under the surface, just behind the mask of a respectable prince. As long as he could remember he has been admonished and disciplined for every little outburst. His lively, loud-mouthed self was unacceptable, he had to be a tight-lipped dignified figure to truly be a son of Aizen. 

A large set of wooden doors were set before him, the windows revealing the forest to the east of the castle and a small garden. He threw them open and took a deep gulp of the crisp night air. Not thinking twice he walked out into the night, catching sight of a defined path through the trees and taking it wherever it may go.

“Stupid ball, stupid princesses, stupid dance, stupid wedding, stupid stupid. It’s all so fucking stupid!” He kicked a rock off the path, hitting the trunk of a tree and bouncing right back onto the gravel beside him. He groaned loudly and walked away from the offending stone. He wasn’t walking long before the dense trees parted to reveal horse stables and a lake, the moonlight reflecting rays of bright silver off the water’s surface. Approaching the water he ripped open the top buttons of his stuffy shirt and tossed the soiled coat to the dirt, he hated the thing anyway. 

The water was cool and refreshing as he splashed it across his face, kneeled on the muddy bank to get his wits about him. Slowly he became aware of a voice, it wasn’t far. He stood and followed the voice, words slowly becoming clear as he rounded the side of the stable.

“- just kids! I’ll do anything in my power- even out of my-! No, that’s not it. Dad! I know you mean well, and you have our best interests at heart, but... but what? Come on, why is this so hard?”

Grimmjow stepped carefully and peered around the corner of the stable, standing there was a man with long orange hair tied up messily, he was wearing a worn out set of brown boots, black trousers, and a thin beige shirt with the sleeves rolled up and collar hanging open. He seemed to be talking to a horse. The horse itself was paying no attention, munching on hay while the man brushed its silver coat and tested out dialogue.

“You could give me some input here, you demon.” The man pat the horse on the snout.

“You’re not really expecting him to respond are you?” The man tending the horse jumped and dropped the brush.

“Fuck! Where did you come from?!” He asked as he collected himself. Now that he faced Grimmjow fully, the man was very handsome in a rugged way, his skin marked with freckles and hair barely kept out of his cinnamon brown eyes by the leather strip that tied it. Beneath his left eye a scar curved across his cheek and disappeared into his hairline, a bright pink against his tanned face. The prince pointed a thumb back toward the way he came.

“I don’t know if you realize this, but there’s a huge party going on, so I’ll give you one guess.” The fiery-haired man gave him a harsh look before he took a breath, reset his neutral expression, and replied.

“Yeah, okay, sorry, I shouldn’t have lost it like that.” The man picked up the horse’s brush again and set it on a table full of grooming tools.

“Bit late to be grooming the horses isn’t it?”

“I needed a moment, I’ve... got a lot on my mind.”

“I’m guessing it has to do with whatever you have to tell your dad?” He came closer to stand beside the man, feigning an interest in the color of the horse’s coat. The stable hand smelled strongly of salt water and oak.   
“Must not be an easy conversation to have if you’re desperate enough to practice with a horse.” 

“It is a family matter, so I would really appreciate the privacy.” The man picked up a comb and began to work through a snarled mane.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone, it’s your business what you have to say or not say to your old man.” He scrutinized the orange-haired groomer, he was well-muscled and stood only a few inches shorter than Grimmjow did. 

“Well I appreciate that, lord knows the last thing this ball needs is another gossip flitting about.” His tone was sharp, suspicious, and challenging the prince to prove him wrong. People didn’t usually talk to him like this, he liked the bite of it, the challenge.

“I assure you, the last thing these people will gossip about is the stable boy’s daddy issues.”

“I am not a stable boy! Who do you think you-!” The man stopped and seemed to think it over before finishing.  
“I’m not a stable boy. I didn’t quite catch your name Mr...” 

“I- you don’t- you don’t know my name?” Typically when a PRINCE is rather loudly announced to a crowd people tended to remember. Most of the kingdom knew his face just because he was about to marry into the royal family, how could anyone not know who he was?

“No? I don’t believe I’ve ever met you, otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me stable boy, and I wouldn’t be asking your name.” He tapped the comb to the blue-haired man’s chest with a smirk. Grimmjow wanted to be outraged that he was being talked to like this, but when he imagined the strange new man bowing and regarding him with the cold, respectful distance he typically got he felt disgusted. He was done with being a royal for a bit.

“Yeah, sorry, just, after all the party stuff...” he trailed off. 

“Oh I’m quite actively avoiding the ball.” He motioned around to the stable and lake.

“So am I.” 

“So... if you’re going to be hanging around while you ditch I’d really prefer you tell me your name sooner or later.”

“Right, it’s Jaegerjaquez.” The former surname rolled off his tongue easily, a name he technically hadn’t had in well over a decade.  
“And you would be? Stable boy?”

The comb hit his chest a little harder, he laughed it off and watched the redhead’s expression shift, eyes searching his face momentarily and turning back to his work when he didn’t find what he was looking for. 

“It’s uh, Shiro.” The horse nodded its head and pawed at the dirt, making it difficult for his groomer to work. 

“Pleasure.” 

“Likewise. So you new? Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” The groomer tossed the comb aside and faced the prince fully.

“Yeah I’m just visiting, got dragged here for the celebration. Been wanting to leave since I arrived.”

“Hm, that makes two of us. I came straight from the docks and I feel more nauseous now than when I was on the boat.”

“Oh, you’re a boatman?”

“I like to think of myself as a man of all trades. Or at least I try to be.” He began to lead his horse back through the stable, his new company following behind. 

“So a stable hand for the king’s horses and a sailor. What exactly is your position?”

“A lot of questions. What do YOU do?” Shiro secured the fastener on the horse stall and turned back, dusting his hands off on his trousers. 

“I’m in trading.” Grimmjow supplied quickly, glad his brain decided to not short circuit.

“You could say I do the same then.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a real answer to me. Sounds a little suspicious even, you’re not an assassin are you?” He joked, getting a smile out of the other man that he quickly hid.

“The real answer is that I have a ship, I sail around, and if the king wants something I get it for him.” He huffed and walked out of the stable.

“Careful, that sounds almost like animosity.” The prince teased.

“No, it’s not, I love what I do.”

“But not for who?”

“I have no problems with my- my king.”

“Uh-huh, say that again without stuttering.”

“I have... jeez.” Shiro tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear and sighed. He looked exhausted, eyes fluttering closed as he organized his thoughts. Something was seriously weighing on him. 

“He seemed like a decent man, guess I was wrong if he upsets you so much.”

“No, he is a great man, it’s just... this whole thing with the princesses, one of them will be marrying some man they don’t even know. This ‘Prince Grimmjow’ guy.” There it was again, everyone talking about him as though he were inadequate.

“You feel very strongly about that, do ya?”

“Everyone does, it’s sort of a touchy subject around here. Have you never stayed in Kuros before?”

“I was born here. But...” he drifted off as flashes of memories fought to be known. So much blood.  
“It’s been a long time.”

“Have a seat, I’ll tell you about it.” He motioned to a bench off to the side of the lake, the two sat an arm’s length apart on the cold stone. 

“Do you know that common folk are allowed to attend parties in the castle?” 

“Yeah, I noticed that. It’s... unusual.”

“That’s because the queen was common.”

“What?” Grimmjow sat up straight, eyes wide in surprise. How had he never heard of this?

“She and the king had fallen in love despite his marriage being arranged years before by his father. When he refused to marry the princess and took a peasant as his bride there was scandal, judgement, and the repercussions of jilting a powerful nation that they had to deal with. They were married nine years when the Quincy nation decided to attack and have their revenge for the insult. The war was hell, and Kuros lost so many, including... the queen.” Shiro looked over the lake, his mind going somewhere far away as he continued.

“So... I’m torn. We all are. I can understand where he’s coming from, scared that if he didn’t agree to this merger he would be snubbing another powerful kingdom and risking another painful conflict. Knowing him, he must hate this as much as I do, even if he won’t show it.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving the still water.

“From what I’ve heard, no one is more pissed than the prince is.” Grimmjow chipped in and Shiro snorted in response. 

“Yeah, he must be really pissed off, if that fucking idiot would have just gotten married before this no one would even be eyeing the princesses like this.”

“Someone might hear you say that and accuse you of treason.” Grimmjow gave a playful shove to the other man’s shoulder.  
“Sounds to me like you may be in love with one of them the way you’re getting worked up.”

“No! God, no! I’m not- no!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not in love with them, but I have love for them. They were just born when we lost our... queen. They’ve never known the hardships of war and loss like many of us have, and they’ve been just so...” he motioned with his hands in the air when the words didn’t immediately come to him, emotions running too strong to properly express himself.  
“Just so... surrounded... by love and support. All their lives. Who’s to say this guy will care for who he marries at all, let alone love them? It just makes you feel hopeless, watching it happen but not being able to do anything, not even being sure if you should try. My heart goes out to the girls, they must be so miserable.” 

Grimmjow digested what was said with equal parts empathy and fury. This man didn’t know him, how could he assume so much. Even if he was right, the girls were unhappy, and didn’t think him capable of loving them. Everyone was demonizing him in this, but he was just as much a victim of his father’s scheming as the girls. For once he just wanted validation.

“I have it on good authority that Princess Yuzu will only marry someone her brother approves of, think he’ll give his blessing to someone with Prince Grimmjow’s status?” 

“Why would that matter?”

“What?”

“Who cares about whatever claim the guy has? I told you, their mother was just a commoner before she became queen. People shouldn’t be looking at how shiny his crown is or how many horses he has in the stables. What should matter is if he’s going to have his heart in it or just treat this as a business transaction. What I would do- if I was in their brother’s place, is measure him by his character.” A warm feeling of relief spread through him then, nullifying the chill of the nighttime breeze and surrounding him with an unfamiliar sense of comfort.

“That’s... oddly reassuring.”

“How did you even hear that about Yuzu?”

“Word gets around at these things.”

“Oh, so you ARE one of the gossipers.” Grimmjow noticed somewhere in the back of his mind that the way Shiro smiled made his eyes twinkle and quickly buried the knowledge.

“Never. Some of the people I’ve spoken to tonight on the other hand...”

“Just looking at you I can tell Rangiku must have been one.” He laughed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She always goes after the good looking young men.”

“So you’re calling me good looking?” He grinned, leaning back on his hands.

“You are, that‘s how I know she got her hands on you.” Grimmjow barked a laugh. 

“We talked, yeah. Just talked. Her and General Urahara are talkative as all hell.”

“You met him too? Kisuke can be a real pain in the ass when he wants to be.”

“You know a lot of people in the court don’t you?”

“Been here a long time, can name most of the people in town too.”

“Hm, then you must have met Ichigo The Savior.”

“Ugh.” Shiro rolled his eyes and looked off toward the castle.

“Not a fan?”

“He’s just a guy. Everyone puts him on this pedestal, but he’s just a person.”

“The way everyone talks about him-“

“You talk about him an awful lot.”

“I don’t-“

“You do.”

Grimmjow couldn’t argue it further, because it was true. He kept talking about Ichigo, because Ichigo seemed to be the whole world’s favorite topic. How horrible this marriage is and how wonderful Ichigo is, again and again and again. But Shiro wasn’t the one that brought him up, Grimmjow was, because he needed to know. 

“He’s all anyone talks about. The guy sounds more myth than man at this point, and everyone I meet just adds another accomplishment to his repertoire. I’m just wondering now if he’s really so superior.” He spoke honestly.

“I can tell you all you need to know right now. He’s a man. He’s a soldier that loves his family and his people. He’s also a huge idiot that gets in over his head every time he opens his mouth.”

“But I heard-“

“Ah ah ah!” The sailor waved his hand in the prince’s face. He wanted to get indignant, slap the hand away and put the other man in his place, but he just... didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to.  
“Enough about princes and parties and engagements, we're out here to get away from that right?”

“Right.”

“So, Jaegerjaquez, you’re from Kuros?” 

“Yeah, I was.” Flashes of death and pain were quickly blocked out in favor of focusing on the man across from him and counting the freckles on his cheeks. 

“How long has it been since you’ve been back?”

“Not sure, eleven, twelve years?”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you left because of the war.”

“I didn’t. I was here for it, I think.”

“You think?”

“I don’t remember a lot from then, and what I do is god awful.”

“I’m sorry, really I am.” Grimmjow shrugged in response.

“If the war is as bad as you say then I’m glad I don’t remember much of it.”

Ichigo was quiet for a while, cinnamon eyes locked on deep azure as he thought. The blue-haired man felt bewitched by his gaze, utterly paralyzed by something so simple as a look. Finally the sailor looked up at the bright white moon, releasing the prince from his spell.

“I envy you. I remember everything so vividly.” Shiro reached a hand up to touch the scar beneath his eye, a shaky exhale escaped him as he did so.  
“I know you’re staring at it, everyone does.”

“I wasn’t.” But he had been, he’d been committing every detail of his face to memory. 

“It’s fine, really. I got it back then, and I’m not so conscious of it as I used to be.”

“What happened?” The ginger looked at him again, hand still covering his scar.

“The Quincy army invaded my home, killing it’s citizens indiscriminately, and when they found me they wanted to make sure I was dead by the end of the night. Wanted to make a point, an example. My mother died trying to defend me, I was in her arms as she bled out, and I would have been next if my father hadn’t arrived just in time to stop them. That wasn’t the end of the attacks on the capitol, and nowhere near the end of the war itself, but I wish I could forget it all.”

“I must sound like an asshole complaining about having a few glimpses when you’ve had to live with that.”

“You don’t, my experiences don’t invalidate yours. Besides, Kuros has come a long way since then. We’ve rebuilt, we’re stronger now and do our best to honor the ones we lost.”

“That’s very wise.”

“It’s how my father taught me to live, he’s usually spouting nonsense but he has his moments.”

“You two must be close.”

“We are, with everything we’ve been through family is all we have.” His expression soured and he looked over toward the forest before meeting Grimmjow’s eyes.  
“When I left Kuros for this last trip he and I were getting along as well as ever, and now I’m so angry with him I never want to speak with him again. A voice in my head keeps telling me to get right back on the boat and leave until he admits he did wrong, but I can’t do that to him.”

“I would.” Shiro looked as though he’d been smacked.

“I don’t know your dad, but I know mine, and I’d leave him behind in a heartbeat if that were an option.”

“Is it not?”

“I- it’s not a simple matter with him. He’s a control freak, and a perfectionist, so everything I do he has to have a say. I can’t eat, sleep, or breathe unless it’s done how he wants. Most days I want to punch him in his smug face, every other day I hope he’ll just tell me I finally did a good job.” He sighed. 

“There’s a lot of pressure on you, I know how hard that is.“

“Your old man the same way?”

“No, the opposite actually. He’s supportive as he can be, but I can’t say the same of my peers. What I do I do well, and I get praised for it, but there’s this expectation from everyone that I should keep surpassing my own accomplishments. I keep wondering where it will end, if I’ll ever be enough as I am.”

“We’re a pathetic pair, aren’t we? Hiding from the party, talking ourselves into a depression.” Grimmjow talked around the lump in his throat, surprised to find a kindred spirit in the handsome sailor. 

“Yeah, pretty pathetic. Let’s talk about something less pathetic, huh? Share a good memory with me.” The man smiled, a genuine smile that had his eyes nearly closed and teeth on display. The prince racked his brain for something good, but could hardly think straight when he had that smile directed at him. One thing came to mind though.

“I do have one good memory of Kuros. These bright white flowers with a black center, I clearly remember seeing them and holding them, but I’ve never seen them anywhere else.”

“Oh you must mean hollow lilies.” The other suggested before getting an idea, standing from the bench rapidly.  
“Hey, do you want to avoid the party just a little longer?”

“For as long as possible.”

“Then follow me.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see, it’s worth it, promise.” 

He followed Shiro back up the path, but when they reached the castle the sailor turned and skirted the side of it until they reached the bars of an iron gate. The sailor opened the gate with no hesitation and proceeded through, his companion following more cautiously. Looking around, they were in the royal gardens. Various well-tended, pristine hedges and flowers lined the walk. The emerald green foliage was dotted with every hue imaginable; vines scaling the closest side of the castle where nature refused to be contained by fences and pruning.

“What exactly are we doing?”

“Looking... for... here they are!” The redhead knelt beside a low cluster of bushes and reached beneath it, coming back with a single bright white flower.  
“These are what you remember aren’t they?” He held it out happily.

Grimmjow was frozen as he looked down at the pure white petals that emerged from the black void of the center, almost too perfect to be real. It was the subject of his memory brought to life before his eyes. He wanted to hold it, see if the petals were as soft as he remembered, but feared that touching it may shatter the illusion and he’d find himself falling back to memories of pain and death. 

“Here.” Shiro brought it closer, and the prince couldn’t help but step back. The sailor noticed this reaction, pulling the flower away before holding it out again.  
“Hold it, they’re a little fragile so be careful.”

Grimmjow’s hand shook as he reached for the plant, wrapping his hand around Shiro’s over the stem and holding it there to anchor him in the present. Neither pulled back, allowing the moment to take as long as need be to feel comfortable for the blue-haired man. It had been several shaky moments before the prince slid his hand up to take the flower, still scared he would snap back to reality any moment.

“It’s just like I remember.” He mumbled, touching a hesitant finger to one of the large petals and sighing when he felt the silky, cool surface beneath it.   
“You said it’s called a hollow lily?”

“Yeah, because they look like they have a hole in them, they only grow in dark places ya know, it’s kinda cool.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the dense hedges he had found the flower under. 

“And only in Kuros?”

“A lot of stuff can only grow in Kuros. Something about the soil and the elevation and a whole bunch of things I don’t really understand. I can show you some of it if you’d like?”

Grimmjow looked up from the flower, feeling steady and grounded again.

“Yeah, why not? Alternative is me going back to the party.” They both grimaced before Shiro took the flower from his hand and broke off most of the stem. Grimmjow tensed at the feeling of hands on his chest and looked down to see the flower being fastened to his shirt via his brooch. He hated the heavy ornament, but it came in handy apparently. 

“Have you tried the wine yet?”

“Tried it, and worn it.” He waved his arm to show off the staining on his sleeve and the redhead laughed in response.

“Well I’m going to show you the royal vineyards, you’re going to love it.” The sailor grabbed him by the bicep and took off down the path with a smile, excited to share his home with the guest. As they ran through the garden, past the ornately cultivated roses and decorative stone fixtures Grimmjow could feel himself relaxing, finally truly unwinding in the presence of this common stranger. When they reached a branching path Shiro turned left without hesitation, knowing the way like he knew the back of his hand. Soon they arrived at the terraced hillside, trellises of grapes stretching far as the eye could see beneath the starry sky. 

“Watch your step, this way.” The sailor led him down over the steps and through the crops so that they were standing closely between the rows of grapes. He plucked a few from the vine and held them up in front them.  
“See how the color is all striped like that? These grapes are a special hybrid grown here, other places have tried to replicate the flavor by mixing what grapes go into their wine, but it’s not the same. It has its own unique taste.”

Grimmjow tilted his head as he looked over the fruit, and sure enough it wasn’t one solid color. Ribbons of red, purple, and black covered the surface in a wobbly, organic striped pattern. He’d never seen anything like it before.

“That is so fucking weird.” He looked at the bunches still hanging around them and could see that not one was identical, some were more red, some more black, and he was puzzled as to how they kept the product consistent with such a wild variation.

“It is, but that’s what makes it good. Here, try it.” The redhead held the fruit up to the prince’s lips, prompting him to open his mouth purely on instinct. As he bit down the taste flooded his palette, tart as his teeth pierced the skin then becoming sweeter than any other fruit he’s ever had as he chewed. Shiro watched him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.

“Yeah, that’s damn good, but should we be doing this?” He glanced back toward the path, wondering if the castle guard would be making rounds through the vineyard anytime soon. 

“I’m a very welcomed friend of the royal family giving one of the king’s honored guests a tour of the grounds. Nothing wrong with that.” The man smirked, and the glint of mischief in his eye lit something in Grimmjow he’d been repressing for far too long. He lived by rules and consequence, but right here and now, he just wanted to live, consequences be damned. 

“Then lead the way sailor boy.” He grinned as Shiro grabbed his arm again, leading him further into the vineyard.

“When you get a little further down the side of the hill you can see part of the village, if only you could see how it looks at sunrise, it’s one of the most beautiful things you could ever witness.” 

They took the carved steps two at a time, speeding toward whatever destination it was that the sailor had his mind on. When he came to a stop the prince nearly toppled them both, not seeing his companion halt in time to slow his own momentum. As the sailor stumbled the prince reached out to steady him, arm wrapping around his waist to keep him from further tripping over the uneven terrain.

“Sorry about that.” Grimmjow pulled his arm away slowly, his hand trailing across Shiro’s lower back before leaving him altogether. The sailor still held onto his arm, staring up at him with wide eyes and a faint red dusting his cheeks.

“I-I uh... it’s okay.” He let go as well before turning away, searching for something.  
“Over there, you can see the village!” He perked up, embarrassment forgotten. Several miles down the hill, past the stone wall marking the castle grounds were cottages and farmland spread out across the flatter fields. Smoke stemmed from chimneys and lanterns lit the windows of a few modest homes in the dark of the night. It was peaceful.

“When I was a boy the queen used to stroll through the vineyard when the weather was nice; sometimes she’d sing and the farmers on the very edge of the land said they could hear her from all the way down there. Can you imagine? But they swore by it, Mister Ukitake used to grow medicinal herbs right there in that plot to the right, he would give the kids candies and pastries and tell them all about how he could hear the queen’s singing. Claimed it made the crops grow better too.” The distant look he passed over the farmland let Grimmjow know that he was seeing the land he remembered from his childhood.

“Sounds like Kuros was a great place when you were young.”

“It was, still is. Things were hard for all of us for a while, but we’ve come back from it as strong as we can be. Kuros is resilient like that, and I’m proud to be it’s- one of it’s people.”

“To think I could have been here all this time.” He looked over the village, imagining children running around, parents smiling from porches as an old herbologist handed out sweets.

“What was it like for you after you left Kuros? You ended up in a good home I hope?”

“It was... a lot to handle. I was just a kid but suddenly I was having to learn all these new things to meet my father’s standards. How to ride a horse, how to speak three other languages, how to hold a sword, even as a child I had to be poised and better than everyone else, no ‘buts’ about it. Am I happy to have had a home? To have the things I do now? Sure, but I can’t help feeling like I’d be happier to just be recognized as an individual. Now I’m just known for my father and his cr-crowning achievements.” He caught himself before he could slip up. Shiro wouldn’t treat him the same if he knew he was a prince.

“That’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Complaining about all the money and opportunities my father’s business brings me.” 

“No! It’s not! I feel the same way!” Shiro was ecstatic, grinning at the revelation of having found someone with the same dilemma.  
“I’ve always had a lot expected of me too, sometimes even the impossible, and I’ve never had the heart to say no when there are people depending on me. I had to grow up quickly and learn how to do everything for myself over night, I felt like if I was asking for help I was letting everyone down, my family, my country, everyone. Like if I asked for help, if there was ANYTHING I couldn’t do then I was a failure. It’s exhausting having to roll with everything thrown at you and just put on a brave face, it feels like nobody really knows you, just titles, feats, and rumors.“ 

The way he looked at Grimmjow with a mix of understanding and relief spoke volumes.

“Well, now I’m getting to know you. Maybe I would have known you sooner if I’d stayed in Kuros.” He smiled and put a hand on the redhead’s shoulder, then looked back at the village, at where he could have grown up. They admired the view in silence for a handful of minutes before Shiro hesitatingly spoke up.

“Maybe-“

The sound of heavy, clumsy boots approaching made them turn to see who was coming, the light of a lantern glowing far up the hill. Shiro yanked Grimmjow off the path and behind the cover of lush vines before ducking them down below the line of sight. 

“Who-“

“Shh!” The orange-haired man put a finger to his lips, watching the lantern light as it stalked the grounds, going between rows at random. The two held their breath as steps approached them, crouching further to kneel behind the trellis. The man with the lantern paced the row in front of them, as he moved down to weave through the two intruders crawled out of their hiding spot and snuck their way back up the hill. Every few rows they would duck down to stop and keep an eye on the patrol before rushing uphill again. 

The pair ducked into the forest, holding back fits of laughter as the tension waned and they made their way back toward the castle.

“So much for being a ‘welcomed friend’ huh?” Grimmjow laughed as he shook dirt and leaves from his shirt.

“For your information I am very much welcome here, and I happen to be GREAT friends with everyone in the castle.”

“Oh, well excuse me sire, I had no idea I was speaking with someone so important, a thousand pardons.” He gave an exaggerated bow, Shiro laughing and smacking him on the shoulder for his dramatics.

“I’m serious, I really do have friends in the court.”

“And yet we’re running from a grounds keeper.”

“That’s because if they found us they’d try and drag us back to the ball, and I’d like to spend the rest of my night away from diplomacy and rules and stupid clothes.” The little flicker of something Grimmjow had felt before grew within him, stoked by hearing someone else voice what he’d been feeling all night.

“That is, if you wouldn’t mind keeping me company a little longer?”

“I... yeah. Yeah! No place I’d rather be.” He smiled back and watched as Shiro’s face reddened again.   
“Hey, you were going to say something before weren’t you?”

“I... it was nothing important. I was just going to say that maybe... you could visit Kuros again sometime, get to see the city and the village.” 

“I’d like that.” The leftover taste of Kuros grapes soured on his tongue with the knowledge that not only would he be back, he’d be a part of the royal family. He’d be married. They soon were back in the garden and the sailor led them down the opposite pathway toward an open yard, several benches and a croquet setup illuminated by the low windows into the ballroom.

“I thought we were hiding from the rest of the party, genius.”

“Oh shut up, come over here.” The redhead was on his stomach looking into the two foot tall glass panes, just out of view for the people inside.

“Ugh, why don’t you just have me roll in the dirt with all the shit you’ve had me do.” He crouched down beside the other, one knee down.

“Keep giving me attitude and I just might.” The man gave a lazy backhanded slap to his companion’s knee before the prince gave in and lie down in the grass as well. The view was from overhead, the dance floor stretched out beneath them as if they had balcony seats at a play.

“Wow, it’s really packed in there.” The sailor’s eyes darted around the moving figures, looking for someone.

“All your friends, right?” The prince rocked sideways to knock shoulders with the other man.

“Ha, not really all, but a fair amount. Oh there’s Rangiku.” He leaned forward and pointed her out where she was drinking and laughing with a group of other aristocrats.

“You two must be close.” For no discernible reason Grimmjow could feel his stomach drop.

“Not particularly, she’s sweet, and while I would call her a friend she and I aren’t very familiar. We don’t cross paths very often after all.”

“That’s typical of all these lords and ladies. Seeking out people of their class or higher to associate with is how they remain respectable members of society. It’s so fucking shallow.” He scoffed.

“While I get your frustration, Rangiku is still a friend of mine, and she’s not so shallow as you think she is, or as vapid as others say she is. You see that boy over there? The silver-haired one in the blue coat?” He pointed toward a young man that seemed to be locked in debate with a much older, much more intimidating gentleman.

“Yeah, over by the pillars?”

“That’s the one. That’s Duke Toshiro Hitsugaya, he’s... “ a look of deep contemplation marred his features before he turned to the man beside him.  
“Jaegerjaquez, what I’m about to say is very sensitive information, if anyone knew it would humiliate an entire bloodline. I need to know you won’t share this.”

“That’s a lot of trust you’re putting in someone you just met.”

“I... “ he looked down at his hands where he was tugging at the grass.  
“I just feel like I can trust you. Can I?” He looked back, face serious and eyes set with a sense of determination that denoted a threat should Grimmjow betray his trust. 

“You can trust me.” The prince nodded to him and they returned to watching the room below.

“Toshiro is from a family of silk spinners in a northern village in the mountains. When his grandmother passed he would have been left alone to starve had Rangiku not found him. She claims he is her nephew, and as the oldest male in her family he became head of the house. Toshiro is a great guy, proud but not pompous, and Rangiku supports him as any blood relative should, even if it means being second fiddle. So don’t think that she’s as shallow as some other noblewomen just because she’s a flirt.” 

He never would have guessed the hedonistic Duchess was capable of such selflessness, and at the risk of her own reputation to boot. As he watched her drink wine and eat dainty little finger foods he wondered just how many of the people in this castle he’d written off.

“What about General Urahara? Does he have some secret hidden depth to him too?”

“For one, he would prefer to be called Kisuke, and that smartass bastard is full of secrets. He’s the kind of man you’d trust with your life but wouldn’t leave to his own devices, otherwise next thing you know he’s secretly feeding you alligator eggs and bull testicles to see if it boosts your physical performance.“

“That was an oddly specific example.”

“I’m still holding a grudge.” He glared daggers through the glass toward the ex-general and the prince sputtered out a hardy laugh at his expense.

“You probably have stories about everyone don’t you?”

“Well... not everyone... but almost.” He smirked and started pointing out faces in the crowd.  
“That woman over there in the black gown is Lady Yoruichi Shihoin. Smug as shit and knows just the right look to make you regret your life choices. She once broke the nose of a viscount that had the nerve to call her a harlot, in front of his entire assembly. I nearly cried I was laughing so hard.” 

“That’s the most entertaining thing I’ve ever heard happen at one of these things, and how about that big guy over there? The one with the eyepatch?”

“Captain Kenpachi Zaraki, that guy is a war dog if I’ve ever seen one, could probably kill a man with a single daisy, probably already has. Once you get past that though he’s an expert chess player with a soft spot for kids. I once saw him punish an insubordinate soldier by having him hang from a tree for four hours. Anytime he dropped he had to do forty push ups, and the kid could hardly use his arms the next day.”

“Jeez, sounds like a real hardass, I’d never want to get on his bad side.”

“It’s not fun, I can tell you that.” Shiro shivered at the thought. Grimmjow smiled and thought a moment before asking his next question.

“If I was down there, what would you say about me to a charming stranger?” The sailors cheeks went red but he still smiled as he watched the room and pretended to point someone out.

“Look over there, my charming stranger, that man down there with the blue hair and lily pinned to his chest is my dear friend Jaegerjaquez. I know he looks like just a proper pretty boy, but he’s actually one of the most enjoyable people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, even if he’s a bit of a sarcastic asshole. I could tell you all about the time we ran through the castle vineyards and hid from the royal guard.” Grimmjow felt his own cheeks warm as he avoided the look Shiro was giving him.

“And say you were the one talking to a charming stranger, what would you say about me?”

“Huh, I guess I’d say that you’re a mischievous little shit.” Shiro shoved him over playfully, chuckling as the prince rocked back next to him.  
“However, you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, it sounds like you put yourself last so much more than you should and you’re constantly overworked. Still, you know just how to win everybody over, even when you’re not trying to.” He looked away from the window, out toward the garden from where they came.  
“I mean you went out of your way to drag me around on some wild garden tour just so I didn’t have to be miserable in the dumb ballroom, that’s the most considerate thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.”

The two were quiet, unsure of where to go, what to say, before Grimmjow decided to gloss over it altogether.

“Well, all-knowing court gossip, friend of the king, do you have any stories about the royal family?”

“Do I!” He laughed, tension broken and now overflowing with a sort of glee no one should have while sharing the king’s embarrassing secrets on his own property.   
“Where to begin, there was the time he got halfway through a wedding before realizing his trousers had torn exiting the carriage. The time he ruined a family portrait by knocking over the easel, just minutes after it had been completed. I could go on and on, he’s so damn goofy, just look at him.” He said without a hint of malice as he pointed to the man himself, loudly singing along with a folk song as his daughters shook their heads. The sailor watched this scene fondly, unaware that Grimmjow wasn’t paying attention to the ballroom, solely focused on cataloging every expression that crossed that freckled face.

“The princesses have their moments too. Karin once got challenged to climb over one of the garden hedges and fell through it, she was stuck so bad they had to cut her out.” He erupted in laughter as he recalled the story.  
“And Yu-Yuzu tried to keep a stray cat once and it destroyed her bedding.”

“Seriously? Guess the princesses had a bit of a wild streak didn’t they?” He laughed along, cutting a look back toward the girls before returning his attention to the way Shiro was lit up beside him by his musings. The man was wiping away tears as he caught his breath again.

“Yeah they did. It was so bad when they were younger, th-they were such a handful, they’ve matured a lot but they’re still so young.” He was still chuckling softly, but the tears were flowing much more steadily.  
“They’re so young.” He covered his face with a hand, still holding onto a wobbly smile as he collected himself. When he looked back up he didn’t bother to wipe the drying tears as he watched the dance floor.

Grimmjow wasn’t sure what possessed him to do it, but one second he was feeling bad for the sailor, and the next he was wiping away tears with his thumb. The ginger turned to him with that same flushed look of shock but didn’t protest the touch. A few tender moments passed of him clearing glistening streaks from tan skin before he interrupted the silence.

“You’re right, they’re young and this arrangement isn’t fair to them. You must really care though to be crying over it.” He could feel the ache in his jaw as the compulsion to start grinding his teeth reared up. Shiro cared so damn much about the princesses, why couldn’t he care about him? About how all this also affected Grimmjow, the prince. 

“Even if I didn’t, you can’t tell me that the principle isn’t horrible, I mean, can you imagine losing your freedom like that?” The prince looked away, his eye drawn to a young couple that whirled about the floor in blurs of navy and brown. 

“I don’t have to imagine it, Shiro, my father controls everything.”

“That’s a little different from-“

“It’s not different! Jeez, I’m so sick of this stupid engagement. All anyone wants to talk about is how bad they feel for the girls, how sad and HORRIBLE their marriage is going to be and I just- I can’t keep hearing it when I have to go through the same shit with none of the support. Did anyone ever tell ME how sorry they were for making my decisions for me? Did anyone ever say ‘poor boy, maybe he doesn’t want to do this? Maybe just ONCE someone should ask him what he wants, treat him like an actual fucking human being.’ But no, I don’t get that luxury, and I’m pretty fucking tired of everyone wanting to complain about me when I can’t hit the mark.

“All damn night it’s just been ‘what a shame, how awful, poor girls, poor girls,’ and of course ‘Wow! I wish Ichigo was here! Ichigo’s so amazing, Ichigo’s so perfect, if Ichigo was here this wouldn’t happen!’ And ya know what? Good for them! I’m glad they have this amazing GOD of a brother. I’m glad the kingdom has this SAVIOR to look to that no one can stop talking about! But I’m done with feeling so sorry for myself. I shouldn’t have to feel sorry for not measuring up to this goddamn legend, but shit if I don’t hate him for it. He can do no wrong, everyone loves him, AND he gets to choose who he marries? Lucky bastard! 

“And ya know what else? I hope he does stop the wedding, the princesses will be happy, he’ll have another tale to share, and I don’t have to deal with this whole shit show ever again. Everyone wins.” He sat up and faced away from the window, shaking dirt and grass from his shirt. 

The grinding sound of his teeth was only amplified by the shocked silence between them and the emptiness of the night. He didn’t stop, he didn’t care who he disturbed or what some bleeding heart sailor thought about him. Beside him the grass rustled, Shiro sitting up slowly to join him. They sat quietly beside each other for several minutes, neither showing any signs of leaving.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad for you.”

Grimmjow just kept grinding his teeth.

“Hey, look at me.” 

He ignored him.

“Fine. Don’t look at me then. Just listen.” He moved over and dropped himself down directly in front of the prince, close enough that their knees knocked together.  
“Stop comparing yourself to the prince, I’ve already told you he’s just a guy, and I’m as sick of hearing about him as you are.”

“It’s pretty damn difficult when everyone is fu-“

“Stop it. I don’t care what everyone is saying about him, I want to talk about you. I’m asking you what you want, I’m treating you like a person, we’re gonna talk about YOU.” Grimmjow finally met his eyes and in that moment he knew what that little flickering feeling in him was. It was something he couldn’t make himself feel for Karin or Yuzu, something he’d never felt with anyone before. Shiro made him feel free, and better, made him feel seen.

“I just want a choice.”

Warm brown eyes traveled down his body before settling on his hands. The sailor took his hand gently, as if he were scared to hurt him. His thumb stroked the back of the prince’s hand while his hold remained light.

“What if I... gave you a choice?”

“What are you asking?”

The hand travelled up his arm, feather-light as it progressed and came to rest at his jaw.

“I know I said that maybe you could visit Kuros, but that’s just because... I want to see you again... and... if you want to stay... “ he trailed off, thumb now slowly tracing the corner of full lips.

“You want me to stay with you?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Why?” 

“Because I feel like you understand me, and I understand you. It’s difficult to go through life alone having to meet everyone’s standards, the pressure just gets to be too much, and I’ve never really met anybody that knew the pain, that knew ME like you do. You speak your mind, you make me smile, you sneak around the castle and roll in the dirt with me,” he chuckled.  
“I don’t know, maybe I’m just infatuated, but no one’s ever made me feel like this before, and I know even if you say no I’ll never forget you. If you’re feeling what I feel though, you have the choice.” 

The prince swallowed, he felt so warm, he wanted so badly to be happy, but he knew that by morning this would be just a bittersweet memory. A ‘what if’ he will think of for the rest of his life.

“I can’t.”

“You can, all that matters is if you want to.” He wanted to, he really wanted to. As another hand laced it’s way into his hair and the sailor came close enough to taste the saltwater on his skin, he really wanted to. There was so little space between them, all he needed to do is say yes, all he wanted to do was say yes.

“I’m already betrothed.” All at once the night shattered around them. The sound of Shiro’s shaky inhale was enough to break his heart, but there was nothing he could say to fix it.  
“I want to, god do I want to stay with you, but my father has already decided that for me.” He rested his forehead against the sailor’s, wishing he could do more.

“She must be lovely. The woman your father has chosen.” The light breeze was suddenly far too cold as the sailor withdrew, leaving a lonely canyon between them. 

“I don’t know. I think she is, whoever she may be.” He thought of the princesses, adored by their kingdom and loyal enough to upend their lives for each other.   
“My future wife is a good person, from a good family, but I don’t want to be locked in a loveless marriage with someone selected for me. If I could choose, I’d want you, I do want you, but I can’t have you. So as much as I can empathize with Karin and Yuzu, I can’t feel sorry for them when I’ve known how it can feel to fall for someone and know it’s not meant to be.” 

He’d never known that something as abstract and silly as heartbreak could be so physically painful, but the twisting in his gut and burning in his chest could be nothing but that. The way Shiro looked at him, eyes glassy but refusing to cry and mouth tight as he fought not to say something he may regret, Grimmjow wanted to hope that they could still somehow part ways happily. 

“But tonight with you, if you’ll let me I want to pretend I do have the choice, and I only hope you won’t hate me when morning comes and I have to stop lying. We can act like we’re just two nobodies with no obligations to anyone, two strangers falling in love in the dead of night with no tomorrow to worry about.” He reached a hesitant hand forward to cup his companions jaw, craving the warm comfort of his touch.

“I know you must be sick of doing everything for other people, but I’m selfish enough to ask you, would you let me do that?”

“I... I want to do something for myself, I want to have you wholly, but if I can’t... I’ll take the night. I’ll be selfish too for just a while.” He turned to place a kiss to the prince’s palm, holding his hand there as if the two would be pulled away any second. When he met Grimmjow’s eyes the pain was evident, even if he put on a smile.  
“So, my charming stranger, would you like to continue our whirlwind tour?”

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

The mood lingered as they left the gardens and snuck their way down a new path, headed for an abandoned watch tower in the thick of the woods. Neither spoke much but the way they held on tight, arm in arm, as they walked through the moonlit night said enough for both of them. When they finally reached their destination Grimmjow was a little taken aback by the hidden gem. It was an old stone building that had been forsaken for a taller, more vigilant structure, but still perfectly sound with a wonderful view of the city. As they climbed the stairs he could see with every level, every window he passed, just how big the capitol really was. When they reached the viewing deck with its sturdy pavilion overhead he was enchanted by the view.

Miles of sprawling city streets, filled with lantern light and festivity like he’d never seen. Faintly he could hear music and laughter, so he knew it must be absolutely booming within the town itself. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“They do this every time there’s a ball, even if the invitation is open, a castle party can be a little too ritzy for most people’s taste. So they have their own party.” The two men leaned against the railing on folded arms, the stone and iron of the tower bitingly cold this late in the night. 

“Is that where you usually are?”

“I wish, I get trapped in the castle every time. Stuffed into uncomfortable clothes and forced to dance with strangers for the sake of being polite. I’d much rather have been down there, making a fool of myself running through the markets and eating all the messy food, getting embarrassingly drunk, maybe even do those funny little jigs I always see them do during the festivals.” His smile was genuine as they watched the ant-like shapes of the citizens dance and make merry.

“We could go down there if you’d like?”

“As much as I’d enjoy that, I’m afraid we’ve missed most of it, and besides,” he leaned over to rest his head on the blue-haired man’s shoulder.  
“I want to have you to myself for a little longer.” 

“I’m all yours.” He watched the people for a few more seconds, the music still floating over them before he got an idea. He pushed off the wall, Shiro stumbling when his support moved and making a cute face at the mild annoyance. Grimmjow gave a bow and held out his hand to the sailor.

“Care to dance with one more stranger?”

The redhead bowed with a smile before taking his hand. The two of them chuckled and became flustered as they tried to sort out their hands, both so used to leading. After a short time they settled with Shiro’s left hand on Grimmjow’s shoulder, Grimmjow’s right hand on Shiro’s waist, and their other hands clasped. The music didn’t match their movements, the band playing upbeat tunes when the two young men wanted a slow dance, something loving, intimate. As they stepped and turned in the watch tower, even dirty and smelling of salt water and wilting flowers, no ball could compare. 

“Beautiful.” Grimmjow said as another song started.

“They do play very well, don’t they?”

“Not them.” He let go of the sailor’s hand to trace the scar on his cheek.  
“You’re so beautiful.” He kissed him then, unable to ignore the desire any longer. The action was returned in kind, hands moving desperately to find a place to hold more firmly, pull him closer, keep him from leaving. Tongues explored and did a dance of their own as the men lost themselves to their need, only rousing from the spell when the music stopped altogether.

“What’s going on?” The prince huffed, leaving soft pecks along the side the sailor - his sailor’s - face.

“They’re done for the night. I told you we missed most of it.” He pulled back to look the man in the eye, smiling again before they returned to the watch post to continue admiring the land.

“I can see the harbor from here, would you be able to point your ship out to me?” 

“Afraid not, it’s a little obscured from here. I can point out the royal fleet though.”

He did just that, naming off ships and captains and sharing stories from overseas. Grimmjow shared his own list of travels and found they had been many of the same places, with vastly different experiences. While the prince couldn’t share specifics without risking ruining the fantasy, he told his love about how every new trip was another business transaction he couldn’t fully enjoy. On the other hand, Shiro seemed to make friends and survey entire cultures and cuisines and celebrations anywhere he dropped anchor. 

“It sounds like you went to a completely different country, I wish I could have seen it the same way you did.”

“One day maybe you could come-“ He stopped, swallowed, and tried again.  
“Maybe you’ll get to visit them again someday.” His voice was solemn, detached. They both knew what he was going to say, ‘One day maybe you could come with me.’ And it ate them both up inside to remember that there was no “one day,” there wasn’t even a tomorrow. There was just tonight. But Grimmjow wanted more than tonight, as he looked between the harbor and the smile he knew to be fake, he was ready to do something stupid.

“What if we just left?”

“What?” Grimmjow couldn’t look at his face as he made his proposition, so he watched the ships float idly.

“Like, what if we ran away together? Away from all of these obligations and rules? We could get on your ship before morning and start new somewhere that we can actually be free. It doesn’t have to end tonight, we can truly be together.” 

“That’s... I... “ he didn’t look happy, he didn’t look angry, not even confused. His face said he was frustrated, but his eyes were sad enough to communicate his answer, no words needed.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t.” Of course not, it was a stupid idea, wasn’t it? A desperate shot in the dark that left his lips before he could think twice. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I... I can’t leave my family, or my people. As much as I want to say yes and sail away with you, I can’t leave them. I just have too many re-“

“Responsibilities. Yeah. I know you can’t, I’m not the only one that loves you, and it was fucking stupid to ask you to leave everything behind when you just met me. It was a long shot and I knew that.”

“We were just meant to hurt each other, weren’t we? Finally find someone that understands and we can’t be together. You can’t stay, I can’t go, and after tonight it’s over.” 

“It is.” 

The grinding of his teeth was harsh, it hurt from just how hard he was biting down and he wouldn’t be surprised if he chipped a tooth. It drowned out the crickets and pounding of his broken heart, so he’d keep doing it. The warmth of hands on his face broke him from his haze enough to lighten up, but not stop. He cut his eyes to the sailor’s hurt expression and wanted to disappear entirely, he was so very tired. The man kissed him and suddenly it was as if something snapped. 

The prince had his fiery-haired love pressed to the wall, kissing him senseless, raking his hands over every inch of his body because he only had now to do so. They were hungry, desperate, and passionate in their need to feel more, taste more, to have as much of each other as they could in these fleeting moments. Need became all-encompassing for the duo as they slid to the floor, curious roving of hands turned to fervent stroking and fondling. With determined fingers Grimmjow reached up to the laces of Shiro’s trousers, ready to strip him of them. He was halfway there when shaky tan hands stopped him.

“Stop. Please.” His voice cracked and hands tightened, moving Grimmjow’s own away from his groin and to his cheek.

“I thought you wanted-“

“I did, I do want you, that’s why I can’t do this. If I have you now I won’t be able to let you go; I might do something reckless, and even though you said not to, I can’t help but think about the consequences if I kept you for myself. If I tried to steal you away from your fiancé I’d only be causing more problems, but it’s so tempting. You have to go back to your life and me to mine, and I’ll always remember you, but if I let you take me now it would be one more thing to miss. I can’t spend the rest of my life feeling hollow without you, so please, we need to stop before we make this worse for ourselves.” 

Despite his pleas that they stop, he held on painfully tight. He didn’t cry, in fact his face was schooled into a stony mask in an attempt to appear level-headed, but Grimmjow knew better. It hurt, everything did, but he was right.

“Okay.” He pulled back, standing before helping the sailor to his feet.  
“I should get back to the ball, someone must be wondering where I went by now.” 

They returned to the lake to retrieve his ruined jacket, then back to the castle in silence. Nothing could be said between them to soothe the ache in their chests. Once they reached the same door Grimmjow had exited the palace from they paused, unsure of how to say their final goodbyes.

“Hey-“  
“As-“ they began simultaneously.

“You go ahead.” The prince offered.

“I wanted to say that, as sad as it is to say goodbye, I’m glad I met you.” Grimmjow wanted to say the same, but with the fresh wound of heartbreak weighing so heavily on him he wished nothing more than to have never experienced it.  
“What were you going to say?”

“I don’t even know. I just thought I should say SOMETHING before I left.”

“Oh.” Still neither moved, just two more statues in the yard. 

“But if I have to say anything, I’ll say that I’m never going to forget you. Arranged marriage or not, I don’t think I can find it in me to feel the same way you made me feel tonight.” The redhead nodded, eyes glassy again as he fiddled with the tie in his hair, needing something else to concentrate on. Grimmjow opened the door, the sound of the party louder now through the crevice.  
“And if you’re still worrying about the princesses, don’t. They’ll be as respected and well-treated as they deserve, a prince would have to be stupid to not care for them as much as their people do.” 

When he passed the threshold he looked back one last time.

“Maybe we’ll meet again, Shiro.” He closed the door behind him before he could get an answer he didn’t want to hear. With his head held high and face set in its usual indifference he made his way back toward the ballroom.

Aizen was furious when he returned after such a long absence, and doubly pissed that he was in such disarray. Immediately he was pulled away from the party guests to a secluded hallway to take the verbal lashing of a lifetime.

“The one thing I told you was not to humiliate us, and what do you do? You make a scene, disappear for hours, and when you finally decide to come back you are absolutely disgusting. Do you have any idea how rude you are? How you’ve made me look? All you had to do was behave, your brothers can do it, so why can’t you?“

He took his scolding in silence as his father droned about the usual and how disappointing of a son the prince was. It didn’t sting like it usually did, even when he was struck he was sure nothing could really hurt him right now.

“Am uh, am I interrupting something?” Isshin butted in, pretending as though he hadn’t heard most of the conversation and intentionally intervened when it took a turn for the especially malicious. 

“No, I think we were about done here. Grimmjow, apologize to our gracious host for your behavior.” The prince bowed his head.

“I apologize for my behavior this evening. It has been very improper and rude of me.” 

“Hey it’s no worry, if you don’t mind I’ll take you to get a change of clothes.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, that is very kind of you.” Aizen shoved his son forward, the force not unnoticed by the other sovereign.

Grimmjow followed Isshin through the winding corridors in silence, scowling as they passed painting after painting and tapestry after tapestry and not really seeing any of it. They came to a stop in front of a very large, ornate door, the king swinging it open and proceeding to one of two heavy wardrobes.

“Ichigo won’t mind if we borrow one of his formal sets, he hardly wears them anyway.”

“This is the prince’s room?” He looked around, curiosity piqued. The walls were pasted with many maps, x’s and charted paths marked out with care. The writing desk was a mess of parchment and open books written in numerous languages. Several sheathed swords rested in a rack against the far wall, not unlike one he had himself in his room. As the king rifled through the wardrobe he spoke over his shoulder.

“It is. When he lets himself sleep at least, these days he’s always on the move it seems.”

“Not surprising when he has a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh yeah, all that stuff really gets old. Around here he’s just Ichigo, same kid that cried when he scraped his knees or lost his toys. The novelty wears off when you’re his family, you’ll see when you meet him.” That’s right, they would be family, wouldn’t they? Another brother to be compared to.

“I don’t know about that, your daughters still think he’s a hero, and everyone downstairs hopes he will put a stop to the engagement.”

“Hm, can’t say I’m surprised, but I wish they wouldn’t talk like that.”

“Because you don’t want the engagement called off?”

“Because I don’t want them to put that on Ichigo. He takes on enough as is, but of course he’ll think he needs to fix this too. Yuzu will pout, Karin will complain, and Ichigo is ready to throw caution to the wind, that’s how it’s always been. It just got worse when he got older, then there were other people and countries to worry about and that kid doesn’t have a single ounce of self-preservation.”

“I didn’t want this to happen either you know.”

“I could tell, but we both know your father would take great offense, and we share too many allies for me to risk losing resources and support by offending him.”

“Or another war?” Isshin paused as he pulled down a white coat, then continued to rifle through the pants.

“Or another war. It tears me up that my little girls have to be used as bargaining chips, and I can only pray that they understand when they’re older, and that Ichigo can forgive me for my decision.” With his arms full he handed off the clothing to the prince.  
“Get dressed and close the door behind you before you come back down.”

The clothing was a tad too tight, only adding to the discomfort of the stuffy, hot formal wear. In a desperate bid to not think about a certain sailor he traced his eyes over the various maps; the prince was definitely well-travelled. When the last button was fastened he looked at the pile of stained clothing on the floor, the hollow lily still pinned to his shirt despite its horrible, crushed, wilted state. He grabbed the pile and left it in the hall for the maid to take care of, he didn’t care if he never saw any of it again.

The party was still going as strong as before he left, despite the hours between. With another glass of wine in his hand the prince reclaimed his post against the wall, avoiding the masses while everyone else enjoyed themselves. Still he could hear the whispers.  
“Poor girls.”  
“Such a tragedy.”  
“How awful!”

“There you are, you worried us disappearing for so long, almost sent out a search party for you!“ a familiar voice came his way and he looked to see Kisuke taking roost to his left.

“Needed some air.”

“People don’t usually come back covered in mud when they just need a little air.”

“You really are a smartass, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. You still haven’t told me where you disappeared to though.”

“Does it really matter?”

“You’re a foreign prince engaged to marry one of my country’s beloved princesses, and when you went missing in the middle of the celebration you returned looking as though you were in one hell of a fight on the lawn. So I’m sure you can understand the concern.” Even though he still had his lazy smile, the look in his eye was chilling.

“I needed a moment alone, but I ran into a friend of yours and he ended up showing me around the gardens.”

“What friend would that be?”

“Shiro.” The name was bitter on his tongue, he hated that.

“Shiro? Oh HA-HA, I’d hardly call that beast a friend, but that explains why you looked so worse for wear. I’m surprised he didn’t trample you to death.” The man laughed to himself before taking a sip of his drink, unaware of how confused he had made the man beside him.

“What do you mean?”

“We thought that ornery bastard was untamable, he only calms down enough for Ichigo. Are you telling me he didn’t at least TRY to stomp you out?”

“W- no! What are you talking about?”

“Shiro. He’s the prince’s horse, and a nasty one at that.”

“No, I’m talking about Shiro the boatman, works for the king, he was grooming horses out by the lake.”

“Hanataro over there is the only stable boy I know of, what exactly did this ‘friend’ of mine look like?”

“Tan, golden brown eyes, orange hair, scar under his eye.” Describing him felt just as horrible as saying his name, he tried to stay detached as simple words begged to evolve into lyrical waxing on how he wasn’t just brown and orange, he was hot caramel and summer chrysanthemum. But he bit it down. The shocked look on Kisuke was enough to pull him back down from the clouds.

“He was here?”

“Yeah, last we spoke he was still in the garden.” Kisuke turned away immediately.

“Hey! Where are you going?” His stomach dropped as everything processed. Shiro wasn’t Shiro, he had no idea who he was and now an ex-General was called to action at just the mention of him. Who was he? He followed along.  
“He’s not an adversary of yours is he?”

“Not at all, but if I don’t go get him that dumb kid will be sulking in the garden all night. You stay and enjoy the party, I’ll be back in a bit.” He rushed off, Grimmjow watched as he joined the king’s side, whispering something to him that made the king suddenly start fidgeting. Just who the hell had he been with? Who was this absolute stranger he proclaimed his love to?

Kisuke had been gone a while when Grimmjow caught sight of Rangiku again, he debated on going over to have a chat with her, try to find comfort in a familiar face, but thought better of it. He watched as she sought out her ‘nephew’ and embarrassed him in front of the other nobles with her mother hen behavior and chuckled to himself. Across the floor Karin and Yuzu were talking amongst themselves, laughing and pushing each other around in a typically unladylike manner. They were nice girls, he was sure they were, but when he looked at them he just saw a couple of sweet young girls, not a wife. When he really thought about it, he couldn’t see any woman by his side, just one charming stranger.

“Oh hey there! I was starting to think I wouldn’t be seeing you again!” Rangiku chimed, he never even saw her cross the room.  
“Where have you been all night?” He ignored the question.

“I don’t know who I’m going to marry.” Rangiku poised herself beside him and followed his line of vision.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s difficult to choose between the two, either would be a great wife.” She said with a note of reluctance.

“I hardly know them, or how to choose between them.”

“Well... If it helps at all I can tell you that Yuzu is sweet and motherly even for her young age, and Karin is a very determined and strong-minded girl. Anyone of their family name would be an ideal spouse for any noble.”

“All of them, huh?”

“Oh yes, King Isshin has had his fair share of women of the court show interest after his wife’s passing, but he remains loyal to her even now. The girls have caught the eye of many young nobles as well, your father was just lucky enough to offer your hand before the others. And Ichigo? It goes without saying that he’s unattainable, no matter what anyone does they can’t catch his attention. Although if someone were brave enough to proposition him they’d probably just embarrass themselves.” She laughed behind her fan.

“Of course they would. Thank you for your input.” He left her to her own devices rather unceremoniously and approached the princesses, their faces dropping as soon as they saw him.  
“Karin.” He offered his hand and she took it with a sneer before they joined the dance floor.

“I heard you stormed out.”

“I did. I don’t want this anymore than the two of you do, I just don’t have the authority to call it off.”

“Well isn’t that reassuring.” She paused and looked him over.  
“That’s my brother’s jacket you’re wearing.”

“Your father loaned it to me, but that’s not important, I needed to talk to you.”

“So you’re making us dance in front of everyone so I have to listen to you, that’s underhanded.”

“Worked though, didn’t it?”

“What do you have to say?”

“None of us want to be married, and both of you want to save the other from having to do it, I don’t know who to choose, and I don’t want to. Whoever it is that I marry, I’m sorry. Sorry that this happened, and sorry because... “ glassy brown eyes flashed across his mind as he struggled to find the words, throwing tact out the window in favor of blunt honesty.  
“I can’t love you. Not as a spouse, not when I’ve already fallen for someone else, and I’m sorry because you two deserve better. I can’t love you in the way I’m supposed to, but I can love you in the way you love your sister, or how your brother loves you, or how your people do. I wanted to resent you all for this arrangement, but it would be misdirected. So just know that whatever happens, I’ll support you two.”

She seemed taken aback by the proclamation, taking several moments to process it.

“I understand, and I’m sorry that you had to leave your lover behind.” They said nothing else, the song soon ending and Yuzu replacing her sister.

“Yuzu, I just told your sister this, and I hope you’ll understand, but I-“

“INTRODUCING-!” The valet announced loudly over the stairs, sounding far more enthusiastic than he had earlier in the night.  
“His royal highness! Prince Ichigo!” Yuzu’s gasp was drowned out by the chatter around them, but almost immediately she was tearing up and watching the stairs expectantly.

A figure became visible at the top of the stairs and Grimmjow felt his heart shatter all over again when he saw that familiar face. His sailor, all cleaned up and groomed, a luxe black velvet coat, crisp white trousers and shiny black boots made him look every bit the prince he apparently was. Previously messy hair was artfully twisted and held back to show off that beautiful face. He descended the stairs, face stern and posture perfectly straight with every eye on him. He hadn’t even made it halfway down before Yuzu was taking off, Karin joining her at the bottom of the stairs to meet their beloved brother.

The prince met them with hugs and kisses to the forehead, Yuzu certainly leaving a wet spot where she was sobbing into his shoulder and Karin holding onto his sleeve as though she were a child again. It was too much to see him again and find out he was the very person Grimmjow had been cursing all night. He slunk away to the farthest corner of the ballroom, out of sight and away from the source of his anguish. The musicians had barely begun to play again before it was brought to a halt, the valet making his last announcement.

“Ladies and gentleman if you would kindly clear the dance floor, the honor of the final dance of the night shall go to Prince Grimmjow and his betrothed!” He wanted to vomit, Ichigo would see him, would know far too soon who he was, and their night to remember would be forever tainted. He had hoped to live his fantasy until the sun rose. As the dance floor cleared the royal family stood at the foot of the stairs, the two young women front and center, their father downtrodden to the right and Ichigo... he looked so stoic. 

Slowly pieces started clicking into place, everything he had said, everything he had been worried about, he really did understand Grimmjow’s position. He was so upset by the issue because he was so close to it, and now he was forcing himself to sit back and accept it, but could Grimmjow? 

Aizen’s eyes searched, finally landing on his son and fixing him with a glare. Grimmjow had a choice to make, as he took one terrified step after another through the dense crowd he realized he had a choice. He emerged onto the open floor and when their eyes met the stoic regard hurt more than anything. But as he walked the floor one hesitant step at a time, he could just make out the way Ichigo swallowed and his fists clenched at his sides.

Karin and Yuzu were whispering amongst themselves, holding each other’s hands. The blue-haired prince stopped in front of the royal family and looked between them. The girls were trying to look brave, determined to face this with honor. The king stared him down with what could be either sympathy or disdain, and Ichigo was pointedly avoiding looking at him at all. Grimmjow gave a bow to the princesses.

“I’m sorry.” He stood up again and took the three steps to stand before the prince, to the astonishment of the entire room and the prince himself. The stoic mask cracked, his eyes going wide. Grimmjow gave another short bow and offered his hand, he could hear the whispers and the insecurity crashing around him all over again. Whether or not he was worthy of a prince of such high repute didn’t matter, what mattered was if the man he met by the lake still wanted to be with him. He gave a look up and smirked to see the familiar blush on his love’s face.

“Care to dance with a charming stranger?” All was quiet for several painful seconds before full, kiss-swollen lips cracked into a smile and laughs bubbles out. The assembly muttered of the embarrassment, the rejection, and ‘oh, what was he thinking?!’ but the princes still smiled. When the laughter had stopped a tanned hand took his firmly, intent on not letting go, and a hush fell over the crowd. Ichigo was unattainable, he was more than anyone deserved, but he eagerly accepted a dance with this subpar prince.

“Well, stranger, you may call me Ichigo.”

“Grimmjow. It’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise.”  
When Grimmjow turned to lead them to the dance floor he was quickly turned back to face his love, and a kiss pressed to his lips, chaste and quick, but enough of a declaration for all present.

The music fit the dance this time around. As they turned and stepped every other person in the room disappeared and they lost themselves to the night once again.

“So, I found out who Shiro is.”

“Don’t judge me, I had to think up something quick. What about you, Jaegerjaquez? That’s such a mouthful.”

“It was my surname, so at least I wasn’t completely lying.” He pinched Ichigo’s back where his hand rested.

“We were both definitely lying, but at least it all makes sense now.”

“Now that you know everything, I hope you realize how much it means that I wanted to run away with you, sailor.” The redhead lay his head against a white-clad shoulder and smiled.

“I almost did. It was so hard to say no when we were in the moment, and when you left I just kept thinking about whether or not I made the right decision. Now I know I must have, because here you are.” His hands tightened where they held on and he lifted his head again.  
“Please tell me you’ll stay, that we won’t just last for tonight.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you, Ichigo. The Savior.“ 

“Ugh! I hate you now.”

“I’m pretty sure you love me, oh mighty, superior Prince Ichigo.”

“I swear I will leave you right now.”

“You know I’m kidding, I am pretty pissed though that everyone here thinks I’m a degenerate for running around the garden and you get off scott free, when you’re the reason why I was there in the first place.”

“Speaking of, that is definitely my jacket, and are those my pants too?”

“They are. This isn’t really how I wanted to get in your pants, but I had to be presentable.” 

“That’s fine, I’ll just take them off you when the night is over.”

“Whatever you want, Love.”

When the song came to an end they were reluctant to separate. The applause as they stepped back was deafening from the sheer volume of people within the room; they had both forgotten they had an audience, feeling as though they were back in the watch tower. Grimmjow couldn’t move quick enough as he pulled the other prince back toward his family. His own father stood by, enraged.

“King Isshin, your majesty, I wish for your permission to marry your son.” He bowed further than he ever had, lower than was proper for a prince, and begged in the most dignified way possible to be with the man he loved. The king looked to Aizen, noting his thinly veiled outrage before he turned back.

“It was agreed that you marry one of my children, which one was your decision to make. To be frank, if Ichigo will have you then that’s enough of a blessing. Will you have him, son?”

“Yes!” The way he shouted, pulled Grimmjow to stand, and held onto him was very unbecoming of him to do in the presence of the court, but he couldn’t care less. 

“You love him?”

“I do. Truly, I do.”

“Then you have my blessing.”

It was a whirlwind, from their first meeting by the lakeside to the very end of their desperate, passionate night in bed. The wedding proceeded, Grimmjow found himself finally feeling at home in Kuros in the arms of his husband, and stood by his side as he ascended to the throne. Through their years, they loved each other as they did that fateful night, treasuring every kiss and touch as if it were their last. They fell in love for one night, and never fell out.


End file.
